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The large, black mastiff blinked pale grey-blue eyes as he emerged from the cold of tunnel M, paws scratched up, ice clinging to two of his legs. On his back lay a tawny fennec fox, young and bright.

The mastiff was quite tired. The tunnel had taken a lot out of him; the steep slopes had been slick with ice, jagged in places, and he'd had to struggle to clamber up them--particularly to do so without dropping the fennec female on his back.

Her magic had come in very handy, though; he knew that he was stronger than he would have been without it, healthier, more enduring. Still, he had his limits.

"I am the Black Dog. I am void," he had told the fox as they had entered the tunnel. From then on, she'd peppered him with questions and statements, and he had calmly answered, where necessary, as best he could. Sometimes, when focusing on a particularly tricky climb, he had ignored the fox, though he would pick up the conversation some minutes after attaining the crest of each ledge.

Now, though, he was silent, staring up and around as he viewed Orion for the first time.

It was vast--that much he could see; there were cliffs, a tall tower, and what looked like the ruins of some old city, all beneath a roof of quartz that twinkled like a night sky he had never seen.

"I have not been here before. Do you know this place?" he asked Quix.

He lowered his head and snuffled around as he awaited her response, casting briefly about for the strange scent of earlier. But it just smelled of rock and dirt and, more faintly, of other Gembound--no sign of the sickly-sweet metallic stench.

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Black listened to the fox's chattering, unbothered by it. Some Gembound might be annoyed, or even find it endearing; Black simply accepted her and her talk. It is how she was, and that was that.

"Name. I do not know. The wolf-waker spoke the name Void. I am the Black Dog. You may call me what you wish."

His language skills vastly improved every day; this little speech would have been unthinkable a week ago. Now he began to wander forth, sniffing sometimes as he went, but mostly keeping an eye on their new surroundings.

"I must find a place to rest. What do you know of 'buildings?'"

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Black was no coward, nor was he lazy. He was also, however, not a fool: he instinctively knew that his task might turn out at any moment to become a test of physical strength, either through catching their prey or running into other danger.

It was imperative, then, that he remain well-rested, rather than running into this danger on the verge of collapse. Pondering the cloying coppery scent from the tunnel, he entered the building slowly after Quix and sniffed about. There was no sign of anything; just dusty old stone and the fox's scent. He moved his bulk on heavy paws around behind her and flopped down, exhaling through his nose with a slight grunt, body half curled around hers so he could function as pillow and as guardian in case anything unwelcome joined them.

But what were these things? Quix had explained that the buildings were ...well, buildings; but who had made them? For what purpose? Where had they gone?

"Who has built 'buildings?' What purpose do they serve?" He turned his massive head to look down at Quix, brow furrowed. She was clearly turning out to be the brains of the outfit--and the magical support; he was merely bulk and a free ride for the little foxling. He stared at her, fully expecting her to know the answers to all of these questions, and perhaps more. She was a clever little thing, after all.

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Black lay silent for a time, resting but not sleeping. Instead, he kept watch, alert in case something came for them. It wouldn't do to have the little fox snatched out and killed before he could react.

But nothing came--indeed, nothing stirred outside the building--and so, eventually, he shuffled himself a bit, laying his large square head over and in front of the fox, and went to sleep.

Lucky for Quix, Black didn't seem to be the type of mastiff to ring the air with echoing snores. Instead he slept quietly, motionless, for several hours. When he woke he did so gradually, with that sort of contented peace that comes from knowing that all is well around you.

He lifted his head, at length, bleary-eyed and groggy, sniffing the air and glancing down at the fox. She still slept, for now, at least. He had some time to think, before she awoke. He looked back forward again, eyeing the open door of the building. The door's overhang was too low for him to make out the beautiful sparkling quartz ceiling of Orion, but he could see the other buildings lined up and stretching out into the distance, and a slope off to one side where they led down to the bowl-shaped cave's center.

Black then tested his muscles--they were sore, but not achingly so. He could continue today.

He looked down at Quix again, then lowered his head with a soft through-the-nose sigh to lay his chin on his paws, waiting for her to wake. He'd let the little one rest, for now.

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Black blinked as the fox cried out in her sleep--and literally cried; and then, suddenly, she was awake. And just like that, she had gone from fast asleep to perfectly alert and hyper, as before--licking his nose and chatting cheerfully.

Bemused, he slowly lifted his heavy head from the floor and stood, pacing to the doorway before shaking out his coat. He pondered, looking out over the massive cave, barely spending any time on admiring the sparkling ceiling.

"Do you know this place? I must find all ways out. Smell them. Find the thing-that-ran. Do you know them?"

He turned to look back at Quix, and then stepped aside so she could join him--though she could have probably just scurried between his paws. Then he looked forward again, wondering where, exactly, he ought to be heading. He could see buildings, and a large broad area down in the middle, and a tower far in the distance. He tilted his large head, and then looked back down at the fennec fox, deciding to trust her judgement on the matter.

"Is there anywhere in here that a thing may hide, once we have searched the exits, or on the way to them? I do not wish it to escape."

It didn't even occur to him that the thing needn't "escape" at all, and would probably destroy the mastiff pup as easily as it could breathe.